


Those Five Little Words

by sebviathan



Series: It's 9:15 Somewhere [2]
Category: Psych
Genre: CAN be read autonomously from the series, Dialogue Heavy, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-22 00:29:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11955921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sebviathan/pseuds/sebviathan
Summary: They've been officially dating for about a week, now, and there's a conversation that simply needs to happen.





	Those Five Little Words

“So... I know that we’ve established that we’re both—that _I_ , is what I should be focusing on, have... feelings. Of a... positive—well, _mixed_ , but positive weighs out where it matters and I think that’s probably how most people feel about you—”

“You have positive, romantic feelings for me, yes,” Shawn finishes casually, through a bite of...whatever it is he’s eating.

Carlton grimaces and feels his face flush. “Yeah—”

“And you have _so_ many of them you’re embarrassed by it.” Shawn grins as Carlton frowns, and then adds, “Just re-establishing.”

“...Well, if you want to tell yourself that. Anyway, I frankly am very... _happy_ about these developments, but I think—”

“Oh my god, Lassie, are you breaking up with me? Already? Right on your couch? Jesus, this has to be a record—”

“What? No!” He doesn’t know how he could have been more obvious that that was _not_ happening. “Of course not, I’m just trying to— _okay_.” Carlton wipes his face and takes a deep breath. “What I was about to say is that I think there’s something we’ve both been avoiding.”

Shawn’s shoulders relax as a wave of relief hits him. But then he thinks,

“Is that why you sounded all constipated just now?”

“Yeah—no, _no_ , honestly it’s— _I’m_ not avoiding it, and I did not sound _constipated_ —”

“Kinda did.”

“ _Neither_ of us have brought it up yet because it’s definitely not urgent, but it’s got to happen at some point and I think should be sooner than later, Shawn.”

He definitely didn’t sound constipated at all that time. But now Shawn’s a little scared again.

“...I think I preferred it when you sounded constipated.”

Carlton sighs. “I take that to mean I don’t need to tell you what I’m talking about.”

“Probably not, but just in case?”

“Okay—I _know_ that we both know anyway. I know how you do what you do, and you know I know, and I know you know that I know—and that’s been enough for me for... a long time! I’ll admit that! But if we’re gonna be _dating_ , Shawn... I need it to be out in the open. Plainly, no games, no ‘unspoken-ness’ to it—I just want it to be out there. Okay?”

_Oh._

Shawn’s heart skips a beat, and his defense mechanism kicks in. That is, he smiles crookedly and breathes a laugh.

“But if you already know, and I know, and you know I know and I know _you_ know I—”

“Spencer.”

“What’s the _point_ , Lassie? Isn’t the simultaneous air of mystery and not-so-mystery what makes our relationship fun?”

“The mystery part was what kept this from _being_ a relationship until very recently,” Carlton says seriously.

“Yeah but—” Seeing the deepening frown on Lassiter’s face makes him feel sad, and the more annoying part is that he doesn’t have to wonder why. “Scratch that. It isn’t even a mystery. You’ve _seen_ the real side of this—so what more do you need?”

“I need to hear the _words_ , Shawn.... That’s it. I just want to hear the words come out of your mouth, directly, to me. Please.”

“...Right now?”

He’d think Shawn was joking if the panic in his eyes didn’t look so real. Still, Carlton’s own eyes widen, and his jaw drops a bit, in exasperation.

“You— _yes_ , right now! It’s just five words and we both know them— _what_ could be so hard about saying it?”

“If we both know them then why do you even need me to say it—?”

“ _Because_ , Shawn—” Carlton doesn’t mean to raise his voice, but it’s getting difficult not to—just as it’s difficult not to avert his gaze for several moments, or to tighten his jaw or let out a mirthless sort of laugh as he looks at him again—“Because I want to know that you can just say the _truth_ to my _face_. I want to know I’m dating a man who’s mature enough to do that.”

God, hearing that—

That _really_ makes Shawn panic.

“You want the truth? I can say _plenty_ of truths to your face, Lassie—here’s one: during that very first case we did together, I heavily considered asking your old partner if you two might be down for a threesome. Here’s another: that sandwich that showed up on your desk a few months ago with a note that just had a heart on it? That was from me.”

“Shawn—”

“Here’s a third: contrary to anything I might have said in the past, I think your facial parts are all in the perfect spots! In fact I _don’t know_ why I ever felt the need to insult your appearance because I really hadn’t done that to a person I liked since I was in _middle school_ , and—!”

“Shawn, you’re hyperventilating.”

Simultaneously caught off guard by how warm his face and chest are getting and deeply worried for how much Shawn is visibly freaking out, Carlton moves forward to get a grip on him.

His hands land on Shawn’s shoulders, give a tight squeeze as he holds Shawn’s gaze with intense concern, and then slide down to his elbows.

Shawn takes a deep breath. “...Here’s a fourth—”

“ _Shawn_ , if you can say all that to me, then why is it so hard? I don’t understand—unless... Are you afraid I’m going to turn you in the moment you say it—?”

“No— _no,_  Lassie, of course I don’t, I—”

“Because even if I wanted to, the audio from my security camera would hardly be conclusive evidence! And even if it _was_ clear enough, the conversation leading up to it would be suspicious on my part and would almost _certainly_ cause it to be thrown out.”

At that, Shawn forgets about all of his anxiety long enough to genuinely laugh, if only at Lassiter _really_ believing he might have thought that far ahead.

“No, Lassie, I’m not worried you’re gonna—”

“Not to mention that if you were outed as a fraud, every single person you’ve helped put away gets an appeal. You think I want the risk of one of those murderers being let loose on a technicality? I have trust in the American legal system, Shawn, but I know where its faults are!”

Shawn runs a hand through his hair and presses half his face against the couch cushion. “Lassie, I get it—”

“And that’s, of course, assuming that I haven’t had the evidence to bring reasonable doubt to your psychicness for _most of the time that I’ve known you_ —”

“Lass—”

“—or that I don’t care very much about you and whether or not you stay in my life—because I swear to Sweet Lady Justice that I _do_ and goddammit, if I’ve actually given you the impression in the past week that I’m not very _serious_ about this, Shawn—”

“Lassie! Slow down!” Now Shawn’s the one up on his knees, with his hands on the other man’s shoulders, and letting out heavy, breathy laughs that feel a little bit like dry sobs. “And  _calm_ down. _Get_ down—on the floor, and walk the dinosaur—”

“Don’t do that right now,” Carlton snaps, though a slight smirk escapes him.

“...It has nothing to do with all that, Lassie. You gotta know I stopped being afraid of you turning me in after—hell, not even a year! Save some isolated incidents where you were getting into weird, hostile moods... but that’s besides the point.”

That in itself is a relief to hear, but—

“Then why can’t you just say it?” He tries to be stern, but can’t hide that he’s searching Shawn’s eyes for the answer.

And Shawn himself has to pull away again, to avert his eyes and gesture wildly—

“I—I don’t _know_ , okay? I guess I just... feel like I’m betraying Gus, in a way?—I don’t know. I mean, Gus knows and my dad knows, obviously, but I’ve never even said it to them because it doesn’t need to be said. Frankly I never imagined I’d ever _have_ to say it, even in all of my wildest fantasies where _this_ happened.... Shit, Lassie, it’s just—it’s the _one_ thing I decided to hold fast to when I started this job, you know? It happened on a whim but it turned into a _good idea_ and I knew that the only way the police—mainly _you_ , at the time, could possibly prove I wasn’t psychic... is if I told them that. _That_ is what I told Gus on that fateful day and it’s what started _our_ careers in this—and I _know_ you’re not going to tell, Lassie, but it’s like... It still feels like the end of something, somehow.”

Carlton tightens his lips, takes a long, deep breath, and nods.

“...I think I get it.”

“I mean—god, it’s stupid, it’s not even like I’m asking you to marry me or to move in or share a Costco Card—”

“Shawn, you don’t have to say it to me right now,” he sighs, resigned. “If you’re mature enough to articulate why you can’t like _that_ , then that’s good enough for me for now—”

“Oh, no, I’m gonna,” Shawn mutters, still without looking at him. “Just—gimme a minute.”

Carlton watches in a little bit of awe as Shawn’s head ducks down, occasionally nodding as his eyes seem to dart back and forth between nothing in particular. He watches him bite his lip and take in long, slow breaths, and eventually close his eyes.

Part of Shawn knew, as soon as Lassiter brought this up, that he wasn’t going to avoid it. He couldn’t _really_ imagine just getting the guy to drop it and for things to be comfortable afterward—hell, even with what he just told him and how he said it, Shawn knows it’ll weigh on them. He can’t just let it sit.

In other relationships, he might have. In most, he _absolutely_ would have ducked right out of a relationship just to avoid that stress—honestly? Not even a year ago. But things have changed, and he has spent a _lot_ of time with very _strong_ , complicated feelings for Lassiter, and now something that he barely let himself have genuine hope for is _here_ and he has it and... And Shawn is _not_ going to fuck this one up.

He really, truly, wants Lassie to be able to trust him to be at least a _little_ bit mature. So the guy doesn’t need to know that he’s been mentally preparing for this not just now, but pretty much the entire conversation.

One last time, Shawn takes an audible breath. “Okay.”

“Really?”

“Don’t do that, Lass, you’ll throw me off.” Shawn takes hold of his shoulders again, leans forward to look him directly in the eye... and pauses. “Can I get a kiss first?”

Carlton had more or less resolved, earlier, not to give him affection again until he said it. He supposes that’s out the window, now. But he still tries to be stern.

“...Sure.”

Shawn immediately throws his arms around Lassiter’s neck, lets himself fall forward, and presses their lips together for a mere two seconds before pulling back and whispering, much too fast,

“Imnotapsychic.”

Carlton’s eyes shoot open, and the corners of his mouth twitch upward. “What was that?”

“ _I_ ,” Shawn starts again, enunciating this time, and then goes back in for a much quicker kiss. “Am.” _Kiss._ “Not.” _Kiss._ “...A psychic.”

He finally opens his eyes again, heart pounding in his throat, to meet Lassiter’s growing smile—for a solid half-second before Lassiter zooms forward and kisses _him_.

Shawn’s heart immediately leaves his throat and drops back to his chest where it belongs, and promptly explodes. With one hand in his hair, and another on his neck, and then the weight of an entire body pushing his own back, long-ways onto the couch— _damn_ , maybe he should have said it sooner.

Carlton pulls away to get some air back in his lungs, and immediately hears, out of Shawn’s breathlessness,

“Lassie... I’m not a psychic.”

He smirks and kisses him again.

“I, Shawn Spencer, have no psychic ability.”

He starts kissing up Shawn’s jaw.

“Well, not in the traditional sense, at least.” Carlton immediately pulls up and frowns, but before he can say anything—“I’m just saying, Lassie! What falls under the definition of the paranormal changes with the time period, the culture, and in general just how much knowledge of the world any person has! No, I do not read minds, nor do I see the future or communicate with spirits, but _some people_ , even if given a thorough explanation of how I do what I do... might still be inclined to say that my ability is supernatural.”

“Hm.” Carlton bends down to press one more very light kiss, right below his ear. “I’d say more sci-fi.”

Shawn hums in both pleasure and agreement.

“...You want more? I think I’m totally desensitized to it now—Lassie, you beautiful genius, you were right all along and I am not in the _least_ bit psychic. _Mm_ —” He grins and squirms a bit on the couch as his boyfriend’s mouth briefly latches onto his neck. “Psychic, I am not. Sorry, I forgot Yoda isn’t sexy... I can do accents? Wait, how about in Spanish— _No soy un_ _psíquico_ —”

“How about just _one_ more time...,” Carlton breathes against him, “in the Queen’s English.”

...Shawn can do that.

“I am not a psychic,” he says simply, and quietly, feeling Lassiter smile against his cheek as he does.

And then Carlton shoves his arms in between Shawn’s back and the couch, effectively wrapping around him as he kisses him on the mouth again. Nevermind how much he just worked up the both of them—he does plan to take care of that, but for the moment he simply wants to settle in between Shawn’s neck and shoulder, and to feel their hearts beat... and take a breath.

“Thank you,” he tells him.

“Hey, anytime, Lassie,” Shawn mutters back, absentmindedly running a hand through his hair. “And... for the record, I wouldn’t be opposed to sharing a Costco Card. I mean, the nearest Costco is in Goleta, but that’s not too far to go for some good deals, and we both like having things in bulk, so...”

Carlton laughs, just slightly.

“I’ll think about it.”

**Author's Note:**

> While trying to fall asleep last night, I had my usual routine of thinking about Shawn from Lassiter's pov, and this whole conversation basically played out before me. I woke up today and simply had to write it.


End file.
